Touch
by Soleya
Summary: Jack has a dream... but it isn't what he thinks.


It isn't the Gate Room.

Except it is the Gate Room, only it is empty and silent and… glowing. Reverent.

Dreamy.

And Jack briefly wonders if he has traveled back to the sixties again, using words like that to describe the SGC, until he realizes that he is, in fact, alone, and this must, in fact, be a dream.

Swiftly forgiving himself for the use of that horribly outdated adjective, he looks around, and he is alone. There is no challenge, no puzzle, no open wormhole to travel through, and he thinks it says something that this dream of his is ridiculously boring. Then again, the rest of his life is perhaps too interesting.

"Hi, sir."

She is standing on the other side of the ramp, giving him the soft, muted, gentle smile that shows her deepest feelings, and he is so taken by it that it's a moment before he realizes that she wasn't there two seconds ago. And he wonders why, of all places, he would dream about her here. His dreams of her usually involved a bedroom and much less clothing.

"Did I miss a memo?"

"Sir?"

He gestures to her bare feet, then up to the simple dress she wears. It is pale, beautiful, and he suddenly wishes it wasn't all a dream. The muted smile grows with her amusement – he loves that look – and she gestures back at him. "Look who's talking, Mr. Snow."

Glancing down in surprise, he realizes she's right. He is wearing linen pants – he doesn't own linen pants – and a white shirt to match them. He wishes for a wide-brimmed hat to complete the outfit to his own dorky standards, but nothing happens.

"Sorry, no," she says softly, as if she knows exactly what he's thinking.

"Carter…" But he doesn't know what to say, still doesn't understand the point of this dream. "What are we doing here?" he asks finally.

"Waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

She shrugs, and gives him that smile he can't resist. "Just waiting. Come sit with me."

And there is no place to sit but on the bottom of the ramp, so he sits. She sits beside him, close, their arms touching, and he revels in the warmth of her skin. "Weird dream," he mutters, and she laughs a little. They fall into an easy silence, two friends, two teammates, closer than lovers, sharing a single point in space and time.

It is Sam's gentle voice which finally breaks the silence. "There are no fish in your pond," she muses.

"Says Teal'c."

She just nods.

"Doesn't mean you can't fish in it. You should try it."

She looks at him then, and her eyes are a little sad. "You know I can't, sir."

"Jack?"

That voice is Daniel's, and it rings with alarm. He jumps to his feet, looking for the man, but the room is still empty but for the two of them. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes."

"Well, what's… I mean, where… What's going on?"

She stands to reach him and steps too close, face to face, and he can't back away as she reaches out to touch his elbows. "Always so impatient, sir," she scolds gently. "It will all happen soon enough."

"What will?"

For some reason, his question amuses her, and she gives him a huge smile. "Do you know how lucky I am, sir?" she asks softly. "I thought I had my life all planned out, and somehow I ended up here. And it's amazing."

"Uh… is this your dream, or mine, Carter?" Jack asked. "Because I can totally see you dreaming about here when you're not. Here, I mean," he explains lamely.

But she isn't listening to him as she runs her hands lovingly over the railing beside the ramp, looking at the Gate, the walls, the panels as if she's never truly seen them before. "All the things we've done, all the lives we've saved. And the families we've made." She turns back to him and puts a hand on his chest over his heart. "My brothers," she says softly, "and you."

And her face is open, unguarded, and her eyes spill all her secrets with an intensity that floors him. He can't answer, he has no words, and all he can do is put his hand over her smaller one, holding it to him.

Jack doesn't know how long they stand there like that, the simple touch radiating between them. His heart pounds, and part of him wants to pull her tightly into his arms and hold her there, and part of him knows she won't let him. But he doesn't need to. He knows, and she knows, and that's enough.

"Jack!" Daniel's voice breaks the moment again, but he is still nowhere to be seen, and Jack grimaces.

"He has such crappy timing," he laments as she takes her hand back.

She opens her mouth as if to say something, but rethinks it, and finally says, "Don't be too hard on him."

Stepping back, she appraises him long enough to make him self-conscious about what she sees, but she smiles, and without a word, she begins to climb the ramp. And he suddenly realizes that at some point a wormhole has opened, and the otherworldly light shines through her blonde hair like a halo as she turns to face him once more.

"Wait. Where are you going?" he calls after her.

Her smile is sad as she shakes her head. "Somewhere you can't follow."

Somehow he knows this is true, and it bothers him deeply. "But you can't go through the Gate alone," he insists. He wants to walk up the ramp to join her, but his body won't react.

"I won't be alone," she reassures him. "There are a lot of people waiting for me on the other side."

He knows he cannot let her enter the Gate, but he cannot stop her, and he tries one last, desperate ploy. "Sam. I don't want you to go."

"I know," she says softly, reaching out a gentle hand, and though she is far away, he swears he can feel her fingers in his hair. "You're going to be okay, Jack."

With one tiny step backward, the pool swallows her.

The wormhole begins to disconnect, and the light gets brighter and brighter until it hurts his eyes, and he squints against it, and then it isn't only his eyes that hurt, but his chest feels squeezed and he aches all over. And he can no longer see the room for the light, the peace replaced by pounding and yelling and clanging and he just wants to go back, to feel what she made him feel.

"Jack? Come on, Jack." This time, Daniel begins to come into focus and he can feel hands poking and prodding and not soft like hers, and he wants to push them away, wants the warmth and the glow and the dream, but he can't move, can't stop them. The bright light is replaced with a smaller, even more intense light and he squeezes his eyes closed against it, but someone pries them open again. He can't make it stop.

But when the light fades, there is Janet, closer than Daniel, and his eyes fight to focus on her. She is… different, upset, her face damp, and he finds his strength and touches her arm. She grabs his hand in a painfully tight grip. "You're going to be all right, sir," she insists loudly. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

Of course he remembers. The light and the dress and the Gate and the waiting. And her.

"Carter," he croaks.

His hand is wet, and he realizes she is crying, and he doesn't understand. And when he looks at Daniel, he sees the same. The young man opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. His face disappears behind his hand, and Jack looks again to Janet.

"You were ambushed, sir," she says softly, her voice shaking. "You and Sam. She didn't make it."

His world is already moving with the gurney as his chest implodes, and hands struggle with the movement, bumping and jabbing as they try to walk and work.

Only one hand is constant – the one whose fingers brush lightly, gently through his hair. And as he lets his eyes slip shut and his world go peaceful again, he understands the dream.

* * *

Author's Note: Just got done with a week of hospitals and funeral planning and masses for my best friend's father, so I apologize if things get a little dark...

Thank you all for such supportive feedback! It warms my heart... and my freezing fingers.


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